


Hopeless Hearts Just Passing Through

by mosylu



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Iris is hearing things, Thunderstorms, doesn't mean they're not there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11415177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: Every time it rains, Iris opens all her windows to smell the lightning and the wind, because it reminds her of Barry.This time, she hears something besides thunderclaps.





	Hopeless Hearts Just Passing Through

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my musical prompts series on Tumblr. Title is from Tori Kelly's "I Was Made for Loving You"

The summer storm had rolled in fast enough that Iris paused to text Cisco from her parked car, as rain drummed madly on the roof. _Is this Weather Wizard?_

**It’s meteorology, not a meta**

_LOL_

**Somehow I doubt you’re L-ing at all, much less OL**

She shook her head and stuck the phone back in her purse. She didn’t know why she bothered to try and fool people anymore.

She watched the rain hammer down for a few minutes, sheeting down the windshield, blurring the world outside. She watched hopefully for lightning, but there was nothing. She sighed.

She debated over whether to subject her hair to the pouring rain, or the knockoff designer handbag that Wally had brought back from New York City for her. She decided the handbag could take it.

She dashed through the downpour, holding it over her head, splashing through puddles in the parking lot that soaked her to her knees, and gained the safety of the lobby doors, breathless. She huddled under the awning, watching the rain again. She was soaked in random patches all over her body.

Barry would have whisked her through the raindrops, she thought, and clutched the door for a moment.

Sometimes she thought she had to stop thinking like that. Sometimes she thought that thinking like that was the only thing that kept her sane.

She squelched to the elevator and tried to dry her handbag with the lining of her coat. She smiled at the neighbor who joined her in the elevator and pretended to be texting so as not to have to get into a discussion about when Barry was coming back. She knew half the building thought that Barry had run off to Bermuda or something, and her story about a temporary job trade with the Starling City PD was just an abandoned woman’s weak cover.

It didn’t seem worth it, somehow, to insist that he would be back. Not when she couldn’t always believe it herself.

She unlocked the apartment and pushed the door open, hope bubbling under her breastbone that maybe - _today maybe_ \- there would be a lanky form sprawled on the couch, or leaning into the refrigerator, or coming out of their bedroom to kiss her hello -

No. Empty. As usual.

She dropped her bag on the table by the coat closet. She spared a thought for what rainwater might do to the wood, and promised herself she would come back for it when she’d changed out of her rain splotched clothes. She didn’t bother hitting the lights as she moved through the familiar space.

As hard as it was to come home to the lonely dark, it was harder when she turned on the lights and the shadows could no longer hide hope.

She glanced over at the windows. Man, it was still coming down out there. As violently as it was raining, there had to be -

For the briefest of instants, the whole apartment lit. Her heart leapt as thunder cracked like the sky tearing open.

She lunged across the room and threw open window after window. Raindrops poured in, but so did their clean, fresh smell, with the edge of ozone. She breathed in deeply. Wind and lightning was what the Flash smelled of, after dashing miles in seconds.

It wasn’t enough, because there wasn’t the edge of sweat and skin that Barry brought, her Barry, her Flash, the missing half of her torn and ragged heart.

It was close enough for comfort. It was why she’d opened the windows during every rainstorm, in hopes of filling their home with at least a little bit of the one who was no longer there.

_Iris_

She whipped around. “Barry?”

The darkness of the apartment mocked her. Nothing waited in the shadows. She trembled and wondered if she’d really heard his voice or she was finally just losing it.

Lightning flashed again and she cried out, the sound lost in the crash of thunder.

_Iris_

Then the full fury of the storm came to rest right overhead, or so it seemed, because lightning spiked and sliced the sky one right after the other, and thunderclaps slammed into each other, light and noise and raw power and -

_I can’t_

_I love you_

_I remember you_

_As long as I_

_remember you I still_

Pause. Dark. Rain still slapping against the open windows.

Iris held her breath.

The lightning flashed one last time and -

_Iris_

Then it was gone, done, moved on. The raindrops slowed from a torrent to a shower to a trickle. The sun hovered behind the clouds, peering out, silently asking if it was welcome back.

Iris stood shivering in a puddle of rain. Her clothes stuck to her skin and her hair dripped.

He was gone. Again.

The smell of ozone still lingered in the air.

Slowly, slowly, she put her hand in her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. “Cisco,” she said when he picked up. Her voice sounded thin to her, shaky, as if it might shatter like glass.

“Hey, what’s up? You see that storm just now? Wild!”

“Yeah, I did. Something happened. And I have an idea.”

FINIS


End file.
